Indulgence
by TapesAndRecords
Summary: "You are not seriously eating that out of the jar, are you?" Because everyone loves Nutella, right? Tiva, then FutureFamilyTiva. Very fluffy and very chocolate-filled.


Hey all! This is just a little fluff, because everything's been either angsty or just… not fluffy with regards to my writing right now, and I needed to let off some steam. Hooray!  
Despite what you may think, this is not entirely random; I did spend half a day emptying three jars of Nutella. :D So, this starts off as Tiva, then drifts into Tiva-family, meaning the second part is set at least… five years after the last. Probably longer. Anyways, enjoy.

Disclaimer: You know you're obsessed with NCIS when your French teacher asks what it is, and your jaw genuinely hits the table. (I don't own Nutella, either.)

Listening to: You and I, by Ingrid Michaelson

* * *

"You are not seriously eating that out of the jar, are you?"

"Yush." he replies through a sticky mouthful, paste clinging to his teeth and lips as he grins at her.  
She wrinkles her nose in disgust and shakes her head, but he just dips the spoon into the tub again, then brings it to his lips with wiggling eyebrows.

"Okay, that is not safe or sanitary. That's your jar now; we will label it like that."

He laughs, nearly spitting out the food, and swallows noisily before speaking, still laughing.  
"D-did you just _quote _'17 Again'?"

Her brow furrows as she searches through a drawer for a sticky label, and she sends him a glare in the negative, before continuing.

He smiles apologetically, eating some more spread as he takes in her appearance.  
She's hidden by the breakfast counter, wearing one of his t-shirts and he doubts- hopes?- anything else. Her hair is still straight from yesterday, since she hasn't showered yet, but the ends are curling slightly in a messy, relaxed fashion. She just looks... happy.

"Aha!" she exclaims, standing upright and clutching a piece of sticky-backed paper between her finger and thumb. Taking the jar from his hand, she stamps the label right over the brand name, then takes a pen and scrawls 'Tony' on it.

"That's quite sad, you know that, right?"

"At least I will not get your germs."

"You get my germs frequently, actually! Whenever you kiss me, y'know?"

His tone is slightly incredulous but teasing, and he drops the spoon into the dishwasher.  
"What's so wrong with me eating it anyways?"

He turns round to discover she's standing in front of him, and _oh __God_, she really isn't wearing anything apart from that shirt.  
"I do not like hazelnuts as much as you do. And you always taste like them when I kiss you."

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

He kisses her to test the theory, but she clearly doesn't mind _that _much if her lips' movements are anything to go by.

"I am going to take a shower. Are you coming?"  
With that, she's sauntering down the hallway, swinging her hips and disposing of the shirt altogether.

He shoves the jar into the cupboard, nearly smashing it, and runs to the bathroom after her.  
She really doesn't seem to care about the hazelnut taste _then_, either.

.  
.

"Sweetie, what have I told you about eating from the jar?"

"But Daddy does it!" the four year old insists, shoving her plastic spoon into her mouth and somehow covering her cheek in chocolate spread in the process.

"Just because Daddy does it, doesn't mean it is okay. Now come on, you really must get ready for school."

The little one huffs, putting her spoon down on the counter stickily, then pushing the jar away with her short arms, in a way that only a child could. She jumps off her chair and toddles down the hall.  
Ziva picks up a label and quickly marks the jar before following her daughter.

She discovers her sitting on her father's chest, singing loudly and quite out-of-tune, in an attempt to wake him up. The chocolate from her face has somehow migrated onto Tony's chin, but Ziva does nothing about it.

He wakes up eventually, hands trying to cover his ears but stopping once he seems to notice the weight on his chest. Picking up his daughter, he holds her above him in the air and laughs as she instantly starts to squirm.  
"Now what's got you all excited, hmm?" his words are soft and teasing as he grins upwards.

"Your damned chocolate, that's what. Hurry, you're taking her to school today." his wife answers, their child too busy squealing and giggling and trying desperately to writhe out of Tony's grasp to reply.

"C'mon, princess."

They head down the hall and Ziva hears more giggling, presuming morning tickling has begun- something that always happens whenever Tony is on school-duty. She yells down the hallway to make sure he gets the chocolate off their four-year-old's cheek, but receives no response and makes a mental note to clean it off after the two of them are done.

Later, when Ziva kisses her husband goodbye and receives a peck on the cheek from her now chocolate-free daughter, all she can taste is the rather familiar sweetness of hazelnut and chocolate. After she's waved her family away in the car, she heads to the kitchen and opens a high-up shelf.  
Getting a spoon from the drawer, she reaches up and takes the jar marked 'Ziva' and digs in greedily.

And just before she heads for a shower, she screws the lid back on the nearly-empty jar and places it back where it was, the smell of hazelnuts surrounding her as she licks the spread off her lips. She can't help but wonder when she became such a DiNozzo.

* * *

Thoughts? Or did you suffocate in fluff? Hopefully not.


End file.
